


Lukewarm Coffee

by elleliteration



Series: The Grinder Coffee Shop [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AUTHOR AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M, Writer AU, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:52:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleliteration/pseuds/elleliteration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a couple weeks since Steve revealed that he knows Bucky's secret identity. But Bucky's looming deadlines have held them back from following through on the feelings that were also revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lukewarm Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starknip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starknip/gifts).



> So, people asked for more, and my muse liked the idea of more, so here it is.
> 
> Vaguely inspired by this [post](http://elleliteration.tumblr.com/post/89173640479) on tumblr because of reasons.
> 
> This was wrote in a notebook while I was in bed over the last few nights and typed up last night and this morning, all around my crazy work schedule. Which is to say, please forgive any typos, and if you're so inclined, please point them out GENTLY so I can fix them instead of wanting to just rip it all down.

Bucky smiled at Steve as he walked through the door at The Grinder. Bucky was a little early for his usual 3am coffee and not-quite-date with Steve, so Steve was still playing with the French Press, getting Bucky’s drink ready for him. It had only been a couple weeks since Steve had told Bucky that Steve knew Bucky was actually the famous author, J. B. Barnes. Which meant they still hadn’t had time to go on a proper date, mostly because Bucky still had several deadlines looming over his head. And Steve was a gentleman who didn’t pressure Bucky into taking an evening off when he wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Bucky’s deadlines were tight enough that he’d have trouble keeping them all without being distracted. And Steve would most definitely be a distraction. As it was, Bucky looked forward to his nightly coffee dates with Steve and that was more than distraction enough for Bucky.

“Hey handsome,” Bucky said as he leaned over the counter to watch Steve work. An open notebook caught Bucky’s eye and he turned his head toward the space between the register and the coffee machine. It wasn’t just any notebook. No, this was a sketchbook and Bucky’s fingers itched to pull it closer and flip through the well-used pages. But Bucky knew all too well what that particular invasion of privacy felt like, with people always trying to read a page or two out his notebook and reading over his shoulder without his permission, and that wasn’t something he was likely to inflict on Steve. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t ask about it. Especially since Steve already knew about Bucky’s illustrious writing career and had read all of his back catalogue.

“I didn’t know you draw,” Bucky said with a head nod toward the sketchbook when Steve handed over Bucky’s coffee.

Steve ducked his head as he put cash in the till to cover the coffee. He didn’t say anything as he came around the counter to join Bucky in some of the more comfortable chairs, but the sketchbook was in Steve’s hand.

Bucky grinned at Steve and plunked down in what Bucky had deemed “his chair”. They didn’t say anything. Bucky just pulled out a notebook and started working while Steve flipped to a fresh page in his sketchbook and tilted the pad so it was clearly visible for Bucky, an open invitation.

Every so often, Bucky would glance up, to think of a word or how to phrase something, and then five minutes later and one train of thought missed, Bucky would find himself staring at Steve. Bucky got caught up in the way Steve’s fingers cradled the pencil, the way lines came together to create shapes, pictures, to capture life. Bucky was shocked to find his own face slowly appearing on the page, almost the way Steve had appeared on several pages in Bucky’s books.

“You’re staring,” Steve said, his pencil not stopping from shading in the line of Bucky’s upper lip.

Bucky startled, took a sip of his lukewarm coffee to give himself half a moment to think. “Sorry,” Bucky said as he set the mug down. “I just … Is that how you really see me?” Bucky asked, his eyes darting between Steve’s face and the one growing on the page.

“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s not that good-“

“Not that good? I’ve seen less flattering photos of myself. That is amazing,” Bucky interrupted Steve before he could go into full blown self-depreciation mode on Bucky. It was something Bucky had learned about Steve some weeks ago, and so he took every opportunity he could to compliment Steve, to show him that he was valued in Bucky’s eyes.

Steve chuckled, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I believe you about the photos, but thanks.” Steve leaned toward Bucky, hesitancy all over his face and his eyes were glued to Bucky’s lips. They hadn’t kissed yet, not for lack of want, but there simply hadn’t been any opportunities for them to spend time alone. It was rare for the two of them to be completely alone in the coffee shop with no other customers, and rarer still for either of them to be brave enough to make the first move while anyone could just walk in on them.

Bucky leaned forward too, angling toward Steve, Bucky’s heart banging around in his chest like a wild thing trying to escape the cage of his ribs. Bucky desperately wanted to kiss Steve, but just like Steve wouldn’t rush Bucky on a date when there were still looming deadlines, Bucky wouldn’t rush Steve for physical affection if he wasn’t ready for that level of P.D.A.s in his place of work.

They were only a few short inches apart when the bell over the door announced the arrival of a new customer, the musical jangle sending Steve flying to his feet and off to assist the customer with a stiff smile on his face. Bucky slumped in the arm chair like every muscle that had been holding him up right had been severed. He tucked his notebook away while Steve brewed a fresh pot of coffee just for the guy at the counter. Bucky didn’t want any mishaps, because if he thought trying to date Steve while he was only under deadlines was a pain, it would be a nightmare to even attempt it while fans were crawling all over the place , trying to catch a shot of the infamous recluse author or get Bucky to sign their books. Bucky had already decided he would stay for Steve, but the way people treated Bucky, you’d think he was some blockbuster movie star.

Bucky groaned as he thought, not for the first time, that he must be the worst not-boyfriend ever. They couldn’t go out because of his deadlines, not yet. And if anyone ever found out where Bucky was hiding out, then they’d never be able to be seen in public together, or else people would start hounding Steve, asking inappropriate questions of the barista. Bucky never wanted Steve to have to worry about people watching him sleep through his window.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, dropping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder before sitting back down, The Grinder once more their own private space.

“I’m horrible,” Bucky said without preamble or explanation.

“Well, yeah. I’ve read what you do to your characters, the kinds of things you put them through. Who are you not killing this time?” Steve asked, a grin plastered across his face as he pretended to read Bucky’s notebook, even though it was closed.

“You. Well, not not killing you. I’m not treating you the way you deserve. I should take you out on dates, dinner and a movie, that kind of thing. Instead, I’m buried under deadlines for the next six weeks. You deserve better,” Bucky lamented, his body sinking further into the seat until he could barely see over the arm and his ass was hanging off the edge of the seat, resting against his heels.

“I don’t need dinner or a movie to enjoy our dates together,” Steve said, getting up from his seat and leaning over Bucky. One of Steve’s arms braced on the back and his other hand cupped Bucky’s cheek. “I don’t need anything fancy or conventional to enjoy spending any time you’ll make for me with you.”

“Wha-? That is the worst sentence I’ve ever heard. I mean, structurally, it’s just a mess,” Bucky said, his hands finding their way to Steve’s hips.

“Shut up,” Steve said fondly, and leaned close enough to press his lips to Bucky’s. At first, it stayed a chaste press of lips, but it soon turned into tongues sliding smoothly against each other, hands rucking up shirts to drag burning trails into pale skin. Bucky groaned, the sound resonating through his chest and into Steve, and Bucky’s fingers clutched at Steve’s sides, digging bruises against planes of muscle.

Steve was pulling away long before Bucky was ready, and he made sure his bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. Bucky’s fingers grasped after Steve, begging for the man to slip between Bucky’s arms once more and stay there for the rest of the night.

“Don’t pout. The faster you hit your deadlines, the sooner you can take me out properly,” Steve said as he sat back in his chair and picked his sketchpad back up.

It was silence for a few minutes while Steve drew and Bucky wiggled around in his chair, trying not to fall to the floor on his ass. There had certainly been better life choices made by Bucky in the past, several that did not lead to him falling on his ass in front of the man that Bucky wanted to sleep with and therefore humiliate himself. But Bucky was pretty stuck, his torso stretched out and on display in the chair.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky said after a minute.

“Hmmmm,” Steve responded, his eyes not leaving the pad in front of him.

“Draw me like one of your French girls,” Bucky said, his shirt scrunched up around his armpits, his pants tugged dangerously low on his trim hips by all his wiggling around.

Steve looked up and his mouth dropped open, a blush spreading over his cheeks while Bucky smiles coyly at Steve. “Deadlines,” Steve muttered and goes back to his drawing, the blush burning down his throat.

Bucky frowned, but eventually - read less than five minutes later - Bucky’s position grew uncomfortable. It took him some maneuvering, but Bucky got his feet underneath him and stood, even managed to not fall on his ass in the process. It would have been poetic if he had.

“I should go,” Bucky said, feeling quite thoroughly rejected despite their earlier kiss - their first kiss. Bucky packed his things quickly and is headed toward the door when Steve’s hand stops him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Steve starts, looking down at his shoes with quick glances at Bucky’s dejected face. “I definitely want to. But that’s the problem, Buck. I want you so bad, that once I get you, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you out of bed for a week. I don’t want to be the cause if you blew any of your deadlines.”

Steve stopped talking and took his hand off Bucky’s arm, giving him space to leave or not, though Steve couldn’t actually watch Bucky’s face while he made the decision. A minute passed, and the door didn’t chime. Shoes didn’t scuff against the tiled floor. Feet didn’t leave Steve’s line of sight.

“A week, huh?” Bucky asked, his smile slowly returning as he hesitantly took Steve’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“Maybe longer,” Steve said, his face feeling like it was on fire from the intensity of his blush at being so frank about his wants, the things he wanted to do to Bucky, the things Steve wanted to do with Bucky that Steve didn’t, couldn’t voice this early in their relationship.

“I look forward to holding you to that,” Bucky said with a smile, his own blush burning over his cheeks.

“Maybe we can hold each other to the bed,” Steve said, cringing at how awful the line sounded coming out of his mouth.

Bucky cackled, surprised. “Yes, please,” he said with an eyebrow waggle and a low moan. “I like the sound of that.”

“Oh. Okay. Then, um, let me know when and, yeah. We’ll, uh, do that,” Steve said, wanting to simultaneously go find a cliff to throw himself off of and to leap for joy, preferably into Bucky’s arms.

Bucky smiled as he leaned forward to press his lips to the side of Steve’s mouth. “I should still go, but I’ll text you.”

And then he was gone, through the door, and it was time for Steve to clean up before the next shift showed up. He grabbed Bucky’s still mostly full cup and went behind the counter to dump out the lukewarm coffee and wash the dishes. Steve could wait, even if it was six weeks. He’d gone a lot longer without Bucky in his life. What was a few more weeks?

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://elleliteration.tumblr.com/) where you can ask questions or for even more continuation. Fair warning, I'm on a bit of a hiatus with my queue running my blog, but I'll pop on to answer questions if I get any.


End file.
